Daily Reflection Thursday of the Fifth Week in Ordinary Time

"Travel through the back door." This is the invitation from Rick Steves, a well-known travel writer and producer of PBS travelogues, to those of us lucky enough to have the health and good fortune to get out of Dodge every now and then. He encourages us to travel more thoughtfully, to risk becoming 'temporary locals' in seeking out the joys of conversation and discovery in the small villages and neighborhood restaurants and watering holes far from popular tourist routes and traps.

In today's Gospel from Mark, Jesus has a back door encounter of his own. Traveling in the northernmost point of his missionary journey, he is far from the comforts of Bethany, Nazareth, and Capernaum. Remarkably, our story is the only incident recorded by the Gospel writers in what would be a 100 mile trek by foot into Gentile borderlands. We can only imagine Jesus' surprise when a woman native to this territory dares interrupt his restful solitude upon arrival, who praises him as Lord, begs for the healing of her daughter, and doggedly and courageously engages him in sharp dialogue and education on local norms. Gentiles, unlike the Jewish people and their customs, love their house-pet dogs and kept them close, she tells him, in her final, desperate plea to Jesus. Risking deep listening, hearing the deeper meanings of her tutorial and her longing, Jesus opens a new vision of his identity as Beloved. He who in so many of his parables encouraged others to shed old prejudices and circumscribed world views changes his mind. The Syrophoenician woman is already 'in the house,' she has reminded him. Healing and mercy are allowed to flow, and her daughter is set free from her infirmity.

We have no idea how this woman came to know and see this deeper truth in Jesus. But desperation can give us the courage to cross into unknown territory, as the migration of tens of millions of refugees in our own day have shown us. No luxury travel here. No matter our financial situation, however, we know how easy it is in the spiritual life to stick close to home, how tempting it is to 'nest' or to avoid confronting the pride, smugness, judgement, and narrowness of heart that can be lurking there. 

The witness of the Syrophoenician woman challenges us. Where is the growing edge of our own identity as Beloved? In our ongoing maturing in the life of faith, what do we know now in a deeper way than we knew before? What border will love compel us to cross today?  

Let's keep out our passports.